


Five Decades in Earth-Years (give or take)

by WearyOctopus



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant until Resolution/S11, F/F, Family Reunions, Found Family, Pivot to a New Timeline, Post-Relationship, Sinclair Clan, Thirteen and Susan Compare Notes on Marriage to Humans, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WearyOctopus/pseuds/WearyOctopus
Summary: After more than fifty years with Yaz in Sheffield, the Doctor has formed a web of personal connections. Her instinctual move, to disappear without saying goodbye and never return, would hurt a lot of people and disrespect her wife's memory. But old habits are hard to break, especially when you're more than 2100 years old.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Susan Foreman, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. Run

The newest gravestone read:

Yasmin Mehreen Khan

October 7, 1998 – January 11, 2071

Her Life Shines Throughout All Time

Brilliant Detective, Beloved Wife, Cherished Sister

Champion of her Community, Friend of the Universe, Adored by All

Remnants of snow still dotted the cemetery. Rain smelled imminent but the dark clouds had tarried on the far side of the River Don. The bitter late January wind whipped itself against the tiny congregation standing amongst the dead. They were a stubborn few.

A woman stood squarely in front of the new stone with her head bowed. She appeared much the same as she had for decades: long coat, boots, blonde hair, thirty-something. Yaz had teased her for that. As the younger woman had traversed the normal human aging process, the Doctor’s appearance had matured not a bit. By the time Yaz reached sixty, the cradle-robber joke had started flying in both directions.

The graveside service had concluded some time ago and the family had gone for a stroll while the crew filled in the grave and placed the grass sod. The wake was still to come that evening. Mapping out her plan for the wake as she stood there, the Doctor resolved to take the Sinclair kids aside, one at a time, and divulge how she would leave Sheffield before the end of January. Then the same thing again with Mercedes, and then Sonya. Orderly and deliberate; no more sudden disappearances.

The wind’s bite returned the Doctor to herself in the cemetery. The rain had crossed the River Don and was beginning to fall on them. She shivered and hugged her coat.

“We ought to go, Doctor,” hummed the gentle alto voice of Mercedes behind her. “We can always come back.”

The Doctor turned. Mercedes Ruiz Sinclair stood under a dark purple umbrella, barely five feet tall, in a black suit and thick coat. Her youngest, Ryan Jr., had reached his arm around her, sharing the shelter. Only an inch or two taller than his mother, he fit the space effortlessly. He avoided the Doctor’s eyes, perhaps fearing he would start crying again. Then Mercedes extended her free hand, beckoning the Doctor in under the umbrella with them.

The family wove through the damp gravestones as they returned to the road. The Doctor observed from the rear of the group.

Sonya Khan led the way, her impatience to escape the rain tempered only by her now-instinctual ‘in public’ self-awareness. On her heels was her husband of thirty-five years James Prentice, an affable but forgettable man. Dressed in the funereal best that a long-time city councillor and a retired bank manager could afford, they sparkled even in the dreariness. Sonya, upon reaching her BMW, rounded it to enter the driver’s side but paused to fix the Doctor with an accusatory glare.

The Sinclair kids split off to their various vehicles. Still dubbed ‘the Sinclair kids’ or ‘the kids’ even into their 30’s and 40’s, they were now raising kids of their own. Eliot, the eldest, and his wife Cindy had just paid off their three-bedroom flat in Burngreave. The Doctor watched the two of them hesitate outside their beat-up twenty-year-old Tesla from across the road. She recalled the first time she’d seen his handsome face: Ryan’s spazzy eleven-thirty-seven pm phonecall; “Boy boy,” he’d said loopily. “He’s a boy. He’s here.” They had sprinted for the parkade, scrambled inside Yaz’s second-hand VW, and floored it to Royal Hallamshire Hospital where they were immediately christened Auntie Yaz and Auntie Jane as they took turns holding Eliot.

Catching the Doctor’s stare, Eliot quirked his eyebrows at her. She waved him off. Her composure was melting and she ducked into the backseat of Mercedes’ old van. No good. Yaz had always been the driver, and avoiding the passenger seat was no help. The Doctor tried to steady her shudders but the wave engulfed her.

Maria Sinclair Harper, the sharpest Sinclair almost from the start, had anticipated the Doctor’s distress, directing her younger brother into the backseat with Auntie Jane before the waterworks began in earnest. Leaning into the vehicle, she firmly pressed the Doctor’s hand, murmuring kind words while Ryan Jr. wrapped his arms around her from the other side. When the Doctor had stabilized, Maria slid the door shut and strode off toward her Volvo where her sister Rosa awaited.

Despite her tumultuous marriage, troublesome children, and demanding position in Sheffield University’s Department of Chemistry, Maria never seemed to flinch. Not quite humourless, she enjoyed and occasionally told funny jokes, but she had more than once been labelled ‘too intense’ by the parents of her children’s school friends. She possessed a rare combination of hardiness and sensitivity, and was one of the strongest people any of them knew.

The Doctor’s eyes flicked from one sister to the other. Rosa Sinclair, typically a voluble jokester, had said next to nothing all day. Thirty-six, unmarried, and still renting her tiny flat near the university, she had committed herself wholeheartedly to the unremunerative work of her namesake: racial justice. But rather than conform to the more sober activist archetype, she championed her points breezily and winningly.

Rosa’s idolization of the Doctor was obvious; she had travelled in the Tardis more frequently than any of her siblings and had adopted several Doctor-ish mannerisms without realizing it. Mercedes often joked that, as an infant, Rosa had imprinted on Auntie Jane rather than herself. Since Yaz’s passing, however, the young woman seemed more distant than ever.

As Mercedes turned the van onto the street and put some distance between them and the cemetery, the Doctor wiped her eyes and chanced a look at Ryan Jr. A near perfect clone of his father, like a scale model or a miniature. Essentially the chameleon of the family, his older siblings would sometimes joke that they each had entirely distinct imaginary little brothers named Ryan Jr. This week had been no different in that respect except that each Ryan Jr. was 200% more emotionally dialled up than they’d ever seen.

Auntie Yaz had meant a lot to the young man, in particular. He’d applied at the Sheffield police force straight out of high school. At family gatherings and after holiday meals, Ryan Jr. would invariably start begging Auntie Yaz for a work story; she’d relent, but occasionally she would cheat, changing the details of a Tardis adventure on the fly so it would be believable as a Sheffield policing story. Soon Ryan Jr. caught on and they made a game out of it, calling her out for the switch whenever he suspected it. Once, in the middle of a story about a serial arsonist, she said ‘ship’ when she’d meant to say ‘building’ and the whole ruse fell to pieces.

The Doctor trained her focus on the narrow two lane road from Sheffield General Cemetery to the house in Whirlow, bordered on both sides by brick houses and low brick walls and middle-aged beeches. The drive to Sonya and James’s house was not long, barely ten minutes. Bigger than the Sinclair townhouse and Yaz and the Doctor’s flat combined, it had been the obvious choice. Turning a corner, the houses grew larger and the walls climbed higher.

The Doctor didn’t follow Mercedes and Ryan inside. There was no urgency. People would arrive at 6:00pm, appetizers at 6:30, it wasn’t even 5:00 yet, and the Doctor had long ago been banned from every kitchen in Sheffield.

Shifting out of the van, the Doctor peered down the street. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and an arm of sunlight had reached through the clouds to the west. The inevitable flashes of memory attached to this place arrived at last and she started walking. The more distinctive mansions on the street prompted memories of strolls with her wife, respites during tense visits with the Khans. She walked faster.

Not halfway down the block, she started jogging. Two blocks later she was sprinting.

She didn’t stop until she burst through the Tardis doors, wheezing and drenched.


	2. Stop

The Doctor stepped out of the Tardis an hour later and found herself on a London street corner on a brisk spring afternoon in the year 2214. She had adjusted the knobs and switches without intention, attempting randomness. Scores of people filled the street as a funeral procession approached an ancient hall. She cursed and turned to leave but, certain she’d glimpsed a familiar face, hesitated.

A long second look was unable to confirm her intuition but she followed the procession into the great hall anyway. An attendant was distributing and lighting wax candles at the door. The only other light source in the enormous high-ceilinged room was the programmed spotlight hovering over the platform at the front. The casket bearers processed to the front with the elegantly carved and expertly finished walnut box between them. An atmosphere of sincere grief breathed into every shadow of the hall.

An easel near the entrance featured a handsome oversized photograph of the deceased as well as some key information about his life. His face was also familiar, although much older. She read the name: David Campbell.

Of course.

London. 2214. David Campbell.

She surveyed the dim room as best she could. Pressing forward to the front of the hall, she locked onto the shape of a petite twenty-something-looking woman in the foremost row. The woman’s glistening eyes were fixed on the casket as it was carried past her and placed on the platform. Murmuring excuses for herself as she navigated the flickering candles and swaying bodies, the Doctor found herself standing near the front of the gathering next to the woman.

She held her voice to a whisper. “Hello my child.”

Susan turned and narrowed her eyes. Evaluating the Doctor in the candlelight, she blinked a couple times, the realization dawning.

The Doctor continued. “I’m here. I’ve come back.”

The hug lasted several hundred years. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Susan whispered into her ear, sniffling. When they separated, Susan wiped her eyes and pulled the Doctor in for a closer look. “I suppose I can’t call you ‘Grandfather’ anymore.”

They exchanged a smile through their tears.

The officiant had stepped onto the stage behind the casket and was about to speak. “We’ll talk after,” whispered Susan.

///

David’s service was brief yet poignant. The officiant had spoken eloquently and thoughtfully on an old poem by Mary Oliver, and the cello and alto duet had enchanted the room with their magical interpretation of David’s favourite song. Afterward, the mourners brought their lit candles to the front, fitting them into one of the five enormous candleholders that had been arranged around the casket for that purpose. The great hall emptied out into streetlit twilight.

Giving Susan some space to fulfill her role, the Doctor wandered off down the street a little ways. She was turning a phrase over and over in her mind, something the officiant had said near the end of the service.

He’d said, “Our grief is not something to be run from. You must face it, head on, or it will chase after you wherever you go.”

After assuring herself that the officiant was not in fact a telepath, munching on her brainwaves without her knowledge, she allowed herself to be moved. Of course, when you say it like that, it’s obvious. Bit on the nose, in fact. But still worth hearing.

Finding she’d wandered too far from the hall, she hurried back. Everyone had gone, everyone except Susan, who was leaning against the door of the Tardis, waiting for her.

“Shall we go somewhere?” Susan asked, her hands tracing the wood-grain of the Tardis.

“Navigation’s been a bit knackered lately. Best not.”

The Doctor unlocked the door and they stepped inside. Susan gasped. “It’s so different. It’s dim and crystalline and... What possessed you? It was so perfect.”

“Hey! I like it this way.”

Susan paced the perimeter of the console area, soaking in the sensations. “It’s your Tardis. Do what you want, Granny. I’ve just... I’ve spent the last fifty years imagining it the way it was, bright and open, with the round things and all that. It’s... an adjustment.”

The Doctor produced two padded folding chairs and set them next to the console. “Do you hate me?”

Susan’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth formed an ‘o’. “Hate you?”

“Did I do the right thing? Stranding you here for all this time? I’ve been conflicted over it for... well, all this time.”

Susan took one of the chairs and considered her words. “I don’t know if it was the right thing, but it was certainly a good thing. David was very much a boy at the start but he matured and we loved each other dearly. I wouldn’t give up the last fifty years for anything. But before we lose the thread, tell me what you mean by ‘all this time’. How long exactly have you been away?”

“Exactly?”

“Fine. Roughly.”

“I was something like four-hundred-fifty when I left you, in my first incarnation. I’m over two thousand now and this is...”

“You waited sixteen-hundred years to come back?”

“Well, no, I’ve come back before. Sort of. I just think maybe they haven’t happened to you yet. Or, well...”

“I would remember if they’d happened to me yet, Granny. But that’s a little better. You were about to say what regeneration you’re on?”

“Depending on who’s counting, I’ve regenerated fourteen times.”

“Fourteen!? In sixteen-hundred years? Have you taken up supernova-bungee as a hobby?”

“No, no. But I’ve become quite attached to these Earthers, these humans, both as individuals and as a species. And, well, you know how fragile they are. I’ve blown whole regenerations on saving a single person. Wilfred Mott. Rose Tyler. Brilliant people, totally worth it.”

Susan grinned at her, before sitting back in her chair and wiping the smile off her face in frustration.

The Doctor frowned. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’ve only just put my husband in the ground and here I am smiling and laughing.”

“You can’t beat yourself up for that.”

“I know, but it still feels wrong.”

“You know,” the Doctor began, then hesitating. Looking around the Tardis, she located the box of Yaz’s things she’d collected from their flat and resolved to keep. She’d placed it in the hallway so she could introduce the contents into Yaz’s Tardis bedroom when the time was right. She fetched the box. “These things belonged to my wife. Yaz. Yasmin Khan. She was human too. I just lost her. Last week.”

“Aw Granny. I’m so sorry.”

“So, I’m exactly where you are. It does feel wrong. You feel angry with yourself for even a wisp of happiness. For smiling, for laughing. Because it feels like a betrayal. We... we were...”

Susan pulled the Doctor in for another hug. She could hear her grandmother sniffling and sighing in her ear. When they parted, the Doctor wiped her eyes with her sleeve. They pulled their chairs closer.

“Tell me about her.”

The Doctor looked up. “Yeah?”

Susan nodded, her expression kindly and soft. “Tell me about your life together.”

The Doctor ran a finger over her ear, catching a few stray hairs. She looked back. “Only if you tell me about David too.”

“Of course, Granny. I’d be happy to.”

///

They decamped to the library, pulled comfy armchairs close to the fireplace with a pot of mint tea and a plate of biscuits close at hand, and exchanged stories for hours. At intervals, Susan would spot a book on the shelf that she’d read all those years ago or the Doctor would recall an item of Gallifreyan news and they would veer off. But they returned to Yasmin Khan and David Campbell without fail, trading stories of their beloved humans as the hours blurred into each other.

“So, sixteen-hundred years later and you’re still fixated with twentieth and twenty-first century Earth, Granny?”

“Oh hush. I blame Ian and Barbara. I only kept coming back to see how they were getting on but then, before I knew it, I...”

“Barbara left me a diary, you know. She instructed her son to keep it passing down the generations until 2164. One day, about a week after David and I returned from our honeymoon, a woman who looked very much like Ian showed up at our doorstep and gave it to me. You can imagine how wonderful it was to hear from her.”

“Brilliant woman.”

Susan sipped her tea, a grin on her lips. She whirled her wrist a little, activating a hologram device. “Oh damn. I’m late. We have an appointment with a notary to deal with some unclear points in David’s will. We loved him dearly but that man couldn’t state his intentions clearly in writing to save his life.”

“We?”

“Me and the kids.”

A knock on the Tardis door confirmed Susan’s suspicions. She gulped the last mouthful of tea and rose to her feet.

“Yes, that’ll be Ash looking for me now.”

“Remind me their names again?”

“Well, that’ll be Ashley out there. He’s been ever so attentive to me since David passed. The younger two are Terrance and Maude. They are such a joy to me.”

Arriving in the console room, the Doctor opened the door for Susan. It was indeed Ashley, a tall lanky man with Susan’s eyes and David’s hair and nose, already looking old enough to be Susan’s father. He was dressed in the standard English funeral formalwear of the 23rd century, a dark purple kilted suit. He looked quite dashing.

“There you are, Mum. We’ve been looking for you. But I suppose this,” he turned and extended his hand to the Doctor, “can only be one person.”

“Ash, this is your great-grandmother, the Doctor. Granny, this is my eldest, Ashley Ian Campbell.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Granny.”

The Doctor beamed at him and shook his hand with both of hers. “And you as well, Ash. Total pleasure.”

Susan leaned against the doorframe of the Tardis and looked up and down the street before fixing her son with a look. “I’d like a little longer with Granny. Can we delay this business even half an hour?”

He grimaced and whirled his wrist a little, unlocking and illuminating his hologram device. ‘7:39pm’ shone brightly in the evening air, printed in reverse from the Doctor’s perspective. “Not really. Honestly, she’s being generous enough agreeing to see us in the evening. Her office isn’t normally open after five.”

Susan sighed and nodded. “Well, alright. It isn’t far. You run on ahead and I’ll be sure to meet you there by eight.”

“Alright Mum. Doctor, wonderful to finally meet you. I hope you’ll join us for dinner tomorrow. We’re having a big get-together with a huge feast followed by some stories and favourite memories of Dad. You’d be most welcome.”

He offered his hand again but the Doctor pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you so much. I won’t miss it.”

After Ashley had gone, Susan and the Doctor wandered back into the Tardis and stood across from each other by the console. A smile was playing at the edges of Susan’s mouth.

“What? What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, I...,” Susan hesitated, relenting, the smile spreading across her face. “Having you here is reminding me of my original expectations of this life, here with David. At first, I suspected we would adopt or be childless. I didn’t know we would be compatible in that way. But we were. I was surprised, pleasantly. We had Ash and he was a strong and healthy baby, but even then I thought that might be the end. Then along came Terrance. And then Maude. And they were strong and healthy too. It’s been wonderful. We’ve had a good life here.”

“So you don’t hold it against me?”

Susan looked up and searched out the Doctor’s eyes. “What? Locking me out of the Tardis?”

The Doctor nodded.

“Well, I don’t now. I used to. I resented the fact that you made my decision for me. I was quite cross with you. But after the last fifty years that I’ve had, there's no way I could have clung to that kind of resentment. It’s long gone, Granny.”

“I’m sorry, Susan. I should have...”

“I forgive you.”

They hugged. Disentangling themselves, Susan made for the door. “I ought to go. I don’t want to keep them waiting. You will come to Ash’s dinner tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll spend the next twenty-four hours wandering London. I don’t spend nearly enough time in the 23rd century.”

Susan set her hands on her hips and looked askance at the Doctor. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. You don’t.”

The Doctor laughed. “Right. Again, I’m sorry it took me this long.”

Susan grinned and waved the apology away. “Actually, one last thing, while we’re alone. Granny, what does it feel like for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Having an intimate partner with such a terribly short lifespan. Does it make you regretful? Does it cheapen it? I’m trying to sort this out for myself. What do you think?”

The Doctor hesitated and considered her answer carefully. “It doesn’t cheapen it. In fact, I think it makes it more precious. All loss is hard, but you can’t have the joy of beginnings and middles without the sorrow of ends. I don’t regret it. I almost expected I would, but I don’t.”

“You loved her very much, didn’t you, Granny.”

“Yes, absolutely. With all my heart.”

“And you will always remember her?”

“As long as I live.”

“Yes. I feel the same.” Susan stepped out of the Tardis and looked back, an uncertain smile playing at her lips. “Perhaps I’m overthinking it.”

They hugged again, bidding each other brief ‘see you tomorrow’s, before Susan bustled off toward the attorney’s office.

The streets of London had utterly transformed in two hundred years. Several cycles of boom and bust had successively hollowed out and regenerated the city. Sonicking a locked elevator and arriving on the roof of a seven story office building, she surveyed the Thames below. Not many of the old landmarks remained: whatever hadn’t been destroyed during the Dalek invasion had been destroyed in the popular revolution twenty years after their expulsion.

And yet they had rebuilt. There was no London Eye, no Big Ben, no Buckingham Palace, but handsome edifices of a more modest scale had risen up in their place. The English Republic, in its twenty-fifth year, was consolidating its power and serving its people. What it lacked in grandeur and history and global reach, it was proving to make up for in functionality.

But as the Doctor surveyed the scene, all she could think about was what her wife might have said at the sight.


	3. Return

The Tardis reappeared in Sheffield at 6:27pm on January 23rd 2071\. With both the Doctor and Susan piloting, and the Tardis fully cooperating for the first time in months, they had nailed not only the time but the place, appearing square in the middle of Sonya’s backyard.

As they stepped out of the Tardis, the Doctor finished her thought. “That’s what River used to say: that I didn’t like endings. Well, I don’t have to like them. I can hate them as much as anyone else. But I want to be a grown-up about them, show up for them. See things through to the end.”

“That’s good, Granny. Two thousand years old is a good time to decide to be a grown-up.”

She led Susan around to the front of the house. She knocked and the door swung open instantly. Sonya. Susan was immediately an object of suspicion.

“Who’s this?”

“This is Susan. Susan, this is Sonya Khan.”

Sonya continued to bore holes through both of their faces with her pointed glare. “How do you know the Doctor, Susan?”

“She’s my grandmother. We just had a reunion of sorts, she told me all about Yasmin, and I’m here to honour her memory.”

Sonya visibly relaxed but retained her skepticism. “Grandmother? You look like... sisters. You Time Lords are the worst. Come in. Wait, I don’t...,” Sonya hesitated at the foot of the stairs, looking from one to the other. “You haven't been exposed to any exotic space diseases recently, have you?”

The Doctor bit her tongue, questioning her commitment to pacifism in a flash of rage. Susan regarded the woman as an object of hilarity, asking the Doctor, “You said Sonya was... a politician?”

Sonya dipped her head, her face flushing at her faux pas, but persisting in her point. “I’m sorry, that was tactless. I’m trying to be careful. I mean, you didn’t protect my sister from...”

“I did protect her,” the Doctor cut in. “And she protected me. And I’ve told you, Sonya, over and over and over, that I’ve never seen that disease before, that nobody I spoke to in all of time and space has ever seen anything like it, and that it could just as easily have been of Earthly provenance.”

Glaring back, Sonya set her hands on her hips. “I’m just trying to be careful, Doctor. I’m not the bad guy in...”

“May we come in?”

Sonya hung up their coats and stiffly welcomed them inside. James greeted them at the top of the stairs with all the practiced pseudo-charm of a bank manager before he vanished in a puff of smoke. Mercedes, Eliot, and Cindy had annexed the kitchen and were preparing appetizers, roasted chickpea bombs and fancy nachos. Maria was seated at the piano accompanying Rosa as she sang along to “Things I’ll Always Remember”, a fond little ballad from the 2050’s by an artist named Lil Tiffany. Ryan Jr. and a few of Yaz’s friends from the force were already swapping stories about cases she’d solved, one, a double homicide, as far back as 2028.

Following Susan and the Doctor up the stairs to the living room, Sonya fidgeted with her hands, peering one way and another. Her and James’ children were late, and the way that Sonya was giving the kitchen a wide berth prompted an inquisitive look from the Doctor. Sonya waved her off. “I’ve gotten in the way a couple times. Mercedes shooed me out.”

The Doctor poked her head around the corner. Mercedes, Eliot, and Cindy were hard at work. Eliot was peering into the oven, referring to a recipe screen. Mercedes and Cindy were spreading tortilla chips onto pans and grating copious amounts of cheese.

“Mercedes. Everything alright? Need any help?”

“Out, Doctor, you’re still banned. Elly, give the bombs another two minutes.”

Tiptoeing past Eliot, the Doctor opened the oven and took a whiff of the chickpea bombs as they roasted. She sighed with pleasure, the cumin, paprika, and chilis taking her home again. “Oh that’s the stuff.”

“Yes it is. Now close the oven or they’ll never be ready. And scoot!” Mercedes bustled the Doctor out of the kitchen.

The Doctor led Susan into the living room. “Let me introduce you to some people. Ryan, Poppy, Owen, Carlos, this is Susan, my granddaughter. Susan, Ryan Sinclair Jr., youngest of the Sinclair kids, and Poppy Lawrence, Owen Griffith, and Carlos Gutierrez, some of Yaz’s closest friends on the force.”

Rosa stepped away from the piano and joined them. “Did you say ‘Susan’? Like, the same ‘Susan’ Auntie Yaz mentioned at Christmas?”

All eyes turned to the Doctor. She nodded, a rigid smile on her face. “Yeah. This is her. This is my granddaughter.”

Excusing herself, the Doctor found the washroom and sat on the toilet.

Rosa had referred to this past Christmas. The memory of the day rushed back. The Sinclairs had smuggled Christmas dinner up to Yaz’s hospital room. As the evening drew to a close and the Sinclairs started carrying the leftovers back downstairs, the Doctor and Yaz found themselves alone once more. The Doctor had immediately crumbled to pieces, promising to turn the multiverse upside-down for a cure, promising to make it alright in the end, promising never to love again, promising everything and anything, before collapsing into her wife’s arthritic arms in a flood of tears. Yasmin Khan, the one dying of a horrible disease that nobody had ever heard of or understood, had comforted her wife, the functionally ageless demigod. The perversity of the situation only dawned on the Doctor a few moments later.

Collecting herself and apologizing, the Doctor had remained perched on the side of the bed, eyes lowered. Rosa had returned to gather another armful of bags to schlep to the van, but hesitated in the emotionally charged atmosphere. She remained by the door and Yaz didn’t see her.

“Look at me, Doctor.”

Yaz, complete with that haunting quaver she’d developed in her voice following the third exploratory surgery, had reminded the Doctor of a conversation they’d had that summer. They’d been on vacation in Ancient Egypt. The symptoms had become suggestive of imminent organ failures but the Doctor had been in full-blown denial. Yaz had let it go then but this time she was adamant.

“Look at me. Tell me what you’re going to do when I’m gone. No, don’t look away, don’t give me that. Tell me.”

Wordlessly, the Doctor shook her head and looked away.

Yaz kept pushing. “I need to know.”

Again, the Doctor said nothing.

Sitting in the washroom at Sonya’s house, the Doctor could almost hear her wife’s words from that hospital bed. “You could run off again. See the universe. I’ve kept you here a long time. No one would blame you. You could find your family, you’ve talked about that. What about Susan? You haven’t seen her in... a thousand years? Go find your granddaughter.”

The Doctor stood up and paced the length of Sonya’s washroom, avoiding the mirror. She wiped her eyes with her fingers and dried them on her sleeves.

The end of Yaz’s entreaty hovered at the fringes of her mind. “You should roam like you used to, Doctor. If I had a single regret, it would be that I’d somehow tamed you. But I don’t think I have. I know you’re still my wild girl. Tell me. If not for you, then for me. I don’t want to miss any more than I have to.”

The Doctor shuddered over the sink. Her tears dripped down the drain and she tried to ignore the knocking at the door but it persisted.

“Auntie Jane? Auntie Jane, are you alright?”

Rosa’s voice. A bit pinched, as if she knew the answer already.

“Auntie Jane, I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to be there. That was a private moment and I...”

Hearing the woman’s voice crack and whimper, the Doctor unlocked the washroom door and ushered her inside. They hugged, both still shaking.

“It’s fine. You had every right to be there,” the Doctor said.

“I miss her so much.”

“I know, Rosa. She’s... I know.”

Rosa stepped back a bit. She wiped her eyes with her fingers and dried them on her sleeves before the Doctor could offer her a tissue from the box next to the sink.

The Doctor and Rosa watched each other for a moment. Catching a glimpse of themselves in the mirror, they looked almost the same age. The observation sent a stab of panic through the Doctor.

“What now? What’s next for you?” Rosa watched as the Doctor considered how to answer.

“Well,” the Doctor started, beginning to pace the length of the large washroom. “I’ll be taxiing Susan about where and whenever she needs to go. I owe her that much after marooning her in the future for so long. She’ll probably want a Tardis of her own now, so I expect Gallifrey will be a key destination.”

“And after that?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Do what I used to do, I suppose? Ramble about time and space, sticking my nose where it don’t belong and seeing if I can’t make things better. It’s... not for everyone, but it works for me.”

“Can I come with you?”

The Doctor stopped pacing, her eyes wide. “Yeah, of course.”

“Not indefinitely, just for a short while. I’d love to see Gallifrey, and maybe one or two other times and places. But I can’t do the whole permanent companion thing. Not like Daddy and Auntie Yaz did. Not now, anyways.”

“Yeah, no, of course. I’d be happy for the company. When was the last time...?”

“Family vacation in ’64. You took all of us on a tour of those awesome Philippine city-states of the 1300s, then to Satellite Seven in lower Earth orbit in 200,549, and then to...”

“The Oodsphere, of course. Got to love the Ood. So, I haven’t taken you anywhere in seven years? Really?”

Rosa shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I suppose Ryan always used to get the ball rolling on those trips. I should have taken more initiative.”

“It’s fine. You had a lot going on too.”

“Oh, hang on.” The Doctor pressed her ear to the door, hearing the chatter of voices in the living room die down and Sonya welcome everyone. “They’re starting. You ready?”

Rosa wiped her face once more and nodded.

Rosa followed the Doctor out into the living room and found her sister. Maria, the perfect judge of everything always, shuffled over and patted the couch for Rosa to join her. She draped her arm around Rosa’s shoulder. The appetizers were arrayed, half-eaten already, on the dining room table, and Mercedes had joined Ryan Jr. at the back of the room.

Sonya was addressing the whole room and the Doctor turned her attention there.

“Yaz was the best sister I could have asked for. I didn’t always recognize that at the time... rarely ever did, if I’m honest.”

The knowing laughter was clearly louder than Sonya had expected and she took a moment to recalibrate.

“But I can see it now. And, most importantly of all, I saw it before she passed and I told her so. I told her that she had been my rock after we lost Mum and Dad. I told her that she had given me the hope that I desperately needed after 2/23. And I told her that I only entered politics because of something she’d said years before that which, in my own time, had finally sunk in.”

Sonya’s voice was wobbling a little by this point, but she pressed on. “For all the crap I gave her over the years about... well, everything, it turns out she was my favourite person in the world.”

She reached for a wine glass three-quarters-full of merlot and held it up. “To Yasmin.”

The rest of the room reciprocated, unleashing a clatter of clinks.

“We’re going to tell some stories now about how you knew Yaz, what she meant to you, adventures you went on, cases you cracked, whatever feels right. Doctor, maybe you can start us off and then we’ll go to whoever’s ready.”

Removing her shoes, the Doctor padded across the carpet to the front of the room. She met several sets of eyes: Eliot, Mercedes, Owen, Rosa, Susan.

“This afternoon, I was telling Susan this story about Yaz and I when we were first married. We were sorting out what our life together was going to be like and she was weighing her options, trying to decide how hard to push for a promotion. She’d wanted to be a detective for a long time and one of the older guys, Detective Charleston, was about to retire and she knew she’d have to act quickly if she was going to take his place. This was complicated of course by the fact that she was only working one or two days a week. I mean, she rarely ever missed a shift but with the way she and I were travelling it worked out to an average of one or two days a week, from her perspective. And you can’t get better at something unless you do it a lot. So we knew we had a decision to make.”

“She sat me down in our apartment three weeks after our honeymoon and she said to me, ‘Doctor, we need to make a choice. I want to be a detective. You want to keep up your lifestyle. I know we want to stay together, so something’s got to give.’ We argued about it for a week. A long, tense week. The leap from the thoughtless bliss of our honeymoons in Tahiti and on Barcelona to the wordless angst of that week in Sheffield was a shock to both of us.”

The Doctor shook her head and grinned a bit, looking in the carpet for her next words. “I’ll never forget what she did to break the logjam. I had been sulking for a few days, saying very little and generally being a very bad wife. Then, on the eighth morning of our fight, she grabs me by the ear, frogmarches me onto the Tardis, and flies us, yes flies us without my help, to Gallifrey. Oh!”

Noticing that Ryan Jr. had brought his new boyfriend, Tom, who was looking hopelessly confused by this point, the Doctor paused to address him directly. “I’m sorry. Tom, right? You’re new. Hi. I’m a time-travelling alien called the Doctor, Gallifrey is my home planet, and the Tardis is my time machine slash spaceship. Say that five times fast. Ryan can fill you in on the rest.”

Tom, eyes wide as saucers, watched with terror as the packed living room of long-time Sheffield folks only chuckled at this explanation, completely unfazed.

“Anyway, Gallifrey. Yaz flies us to Gallifrey, which by itself would have been enough to render me clay in her hands, a puddle at her feet. Watching that woman fly the Tardis... well, there are children present, so I won’t go into detail. Anyway, so not only did she fly us there, she’d tracked down my favourite grandmother, the one I’d mentioned to her way back when, the one that used to tell me bedtime stories about the Solitract. Yaz goes back to the Tardis, leaving me with Granny. And Granny tells me to support my wife. To stop running, at least for this lifetime. That I can prove my love to my wife by doing this difficult thing.”

“I was blown away. I had known that Yaz was incredible and brilliant for a long time but this raised the bar. And it was true, one lifetime of more or less consecutive time in a single place was a commitment I was willing to make if it made this wonderful brilliant woman happy. I thanked Granny and returned to the Tardis. I found Yaz in her Tardis bedroom and we... uh, I gave her a long, long kiss. I told her that I would be there for her no matter what. That she was going to be the best detective in England and that I was never going to leave her.”

The Doctor hesitated.

“Now, Susan said this was a lovely story to tell you all but I’m starting to think maybe should have gotten a human perspective as well. That doesn’t come across badly or, you know, out of touch, does it?”

The consensus of the room agreed that it was a very nice story.

“Right, well, most of you have heard about how we met in 2018. Crashing into the train and all that. Well, I never would have guessed that the police officer I met all those years ago would become such a pivotal person in my life. But she has. She was, and is, and will always be.”

///

The stories flowed for hours. The appetizers disappeared and were replaced with potato chips and hummus. Some folks left after 9pm but a core group held down the living room couches, trading anecdotes and full length stories well past 11pm.

A particular highlight was Mercedes’ story from her and Ryan’s early days. She’d met Graham first and they’d gotten along famously. Yaz had been next, with Ryan introducing her to Mercedes as an adopted sister. “‘Sister from another mister’,” Mercedes quoted.

Unaware of their travels through time and space at this point, Mercedes’ curiosity had been piqued when Ryan and Yaz had fumbled their explanation of how they had gotten so close again after losing touch at school. If they had dated at some point and become friends after breaking up, it wasn’t a problem; she just couldn’t understand why they were dancing around it.

Yaz, Mercedes reminisced, had noticed immediately that Mercedes suspected they weren’t telling her something important. She dragged Ryan outside fifteen minutes into the chat and, Ryan had admitted later, told him so. Rather than allow Mercedes to make assumptions, she prodded Ryan to tell the whole truth and see what happened. He resisted but she was relentless.

While Ryan tried to prepare Mercedes, Yaz whatsapped the Doctor. Mercedes reacted to the materializing Tardis rather well, eyes widening, a smile spreading across her face. The big blue box appeared in the living room without breaking a single piece of furniture. When the Doctor popped her head out, Yaz gave her girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips and then dragged her out into the living room to introduce her to Mercedes. Together, Ryan and Yaz explained that this time-travelling alien accounted for the suspicious gaps in their stories.

Mercedes concluded by crediting Yaz for the success of her and Ryan’s relationship in that vulnerable early stage.

Overheated with emotions, the Doctor stepped outside onto the back deck. The cold dark was bracing and welcome. The rain had given way to snow, which stuck in patches here and there. The roof of the Tardis, at least, retained an elegant powdery lining. The moon was obscured and the wind had died down. The aroma of her neglected chardonnay drifted up from the glass she still clutched.

The door opened behind her. Susan. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. It’s trying to snow.”

“Indeed.”

They stood at the edge of the deck in appreciation of the dark and quiet for a few moments before Susan spoke.

“I’m thinking of moving on from London. My kids are old enough. Now that David is gone, I don’t think I should hang around anymore.”

"Have you told them?"

"I told them I'd be back very soon, from their perspective."

“Where do you want to go?”

Susan inhaled a long breath and let it out gradually. “Gallifrey. I think it’s time, time to build something new. Claim a proper name, like you. I can’t be ‘Susan’ my whole life. It’s a big universe.”

The Doctor nodded. “It sure is. Any ideas for a name?”

Susan shook her head. “Don’t even know where to begin.”

“You could reclaim Arkytior. Or Larn.”

Susan wrinkled her nose and shook her head again. “No, no, something new. I’ll let you know when I’ve decided. Also, I’d like to bond with a Tardis of my own. I’m quite jealous of you in that regard.”

“Aw that’s brilliant. Great idea. It’s one of the best things you’ll ever do, believe me.”

Susan smiled at her. The silence resumed and they watched as the snow began to stick on the grass and the empty garden beds. A glimmer of moonlight slipped through the clouds and shone brightly over the river for several seconds.

Pulling away from the railing, the Doctor paced the length of the deck and then paused by the door. “We could just disappear now.”

Susan raised her eyebrows. “I thought you’d resolved not to do that.”

Edging down the steps to the backyard, the Doctor shrugged. “Maybe I lied. Maybe I can’t help myself. Who knows? I’m a wild thing.”

Her granddaughter rolled her eyes. “Oh please. A wild thing. Sure, Granny.”

The Doctor hesitated halfway down the steps, watched the snow falling on the luminous Tardis, and reversed course. “Yaz sometimes called me ‘wild thing’. Or ‘wild girl’.”

“That’s too much information, Granny.”

Smiling wistfully, the Doctor watched the Sinclairs sipping tea and trading stories through the window. “Yeah, maybe.”

Susan turned to face her. “So? What’s it going to be?”

The Doctor considered the question, then opened the door and stepped across the threshold into the living room, calling back, “I’ll meet you in the Tardis.”

“I’ll get our coats.”

The Doctor found Rosa first. The young woman was unprepared but immediately assented. She borrowed Maria’s Volvo and tore off to her flat, promising to be back in thirty minutes and imploring the Doctor to wait for her.

In the meantime, the Doctor made the rounds. She and Mercedes held each other for a full minute. Mercedes thanked her and the Doctor reciprocated, and then they argued about who needed to thank who. Then, out of the blue, the Doctor offered to take Mercedes to the Philippines to see her extended family again next time she was back.

Maria tried valiantly, one last time, to pry the secret to fusion energy out of the Doctor (“Even a tiny hint,” she pleaded). Ryan Jr. made the Doctor promise to come back for his big 30th birthday party in April. Eliot and Cindy only asked that she come back often and soon, in her own time. The Doctor cherished the way each of the kids called her ‘Auntie Jane’, sincerely and unprompted, as they offered their farewells.

Last came Sonya. James was nowhere to be seen and the two women sized each other up. She offered the Doctor her hand which the Doctor ignored, pulling the old woman in for a gentle bear hug. Flailing about for a couple seconds, Sonya finally settled into the prolonged caress.

When they stepped back, the Doctor set a hand on Sonya’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “I did the absolute best I could for her. I swear to you on everything that matters, I did everything I could for her.”

Sonya tried to blink back a tear but it dripped down her face. She flinched but didn’t shrug off the Doctor’s hand. She sniffled and took a breath. “Alright. I’m sorry for blaming you. Eighty-two, you said?”

The Doctor nodded. "That's my best guess. With all our travelling, Yaz was at least ten years older than her official Earth age."

"Alright. That's... that's a good life."

They hugged again and said their farewells.

By the time the Doctor reached the Tardis, Rosa had pulled into the driveway. She’d packed light and quick, bringing a single backpack of essentials. She’d been planning for a moment like this for years and she’d forgotten nothing she couldn’t do without. For a moment, the Doctor wondered whether this was truly the short-term trip Rosa had claimed.

Tossing her backpack down inside the Tardis door, Rosa Sinclair darted back inside the house. She was back in a moment, having tossed the car keys back to her sister and pecked her mom on the cheek.

“Alright, Auntie Jane,” she said, breathless and flushed, standing next to the console across from Susan and the Doctor. “I’m ready.”

“Gallifrey, then?”

Susan typed in the coordinates. She squinted at the screen, scrolling around where it used to be, her confusion evident. “Where is it? Did you move it?”

“Oh, right, yes. I did.”

Susan exclaimed and raked her fingers through her hair. “That was supposed to be a joke! You moved Gallifrey?! I mean, holy god complex, Granny!”

The Doctor fiddled with some knobs before doing a ‘presto’ gesture. Susan frowned at the display, fingers still entrenched follicle-deep. “You put it in a pocket universe?”

“Yes, a parallel pocket universe!” The Doctor was grinning from ear to ear. “It took some real doing too. They’re fine. It’s fine. They’re fine. You’ll see. Rosa, come over here. Let’s do this bit together. I love doing this bit together.”

They set their hands on the main lever, one on top of the other. The Doctor counted down from three and then the Tardis started to groan and moan. The entire craft shuddered and shook. Rosa was jostled to the floor but the commotion was short-lived.

“Sorry about that. Trip to a parallel universe is always a bit trickier. We made it, though. See, Susan. There she is, safe and sound. It was either this or let the Daleks burn it.”

“Alright Granny, fine.” Susan hurried to the door and peered outside. She exhaled the pent up tension and breathed in the familiar aromas of home. “After all these years.”

Rosa joined her by the door, looking over her shoulder. The burnt orange sky was brightening with every second as the second sun rose above the horizon. Rosa gasped and set her hand on Susan’s shoulder. They walked out onto the rocky plain and watched the show.

“You coming, Auntie Jane?”

“I’ll be out in a moment. You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.” She stepped down from the console area. The box of Yaz’s things had been sitting on the floor in a corner all this time. She lifted it with a grunt and turned down the hallway to Yaz’s Tardis bedroom. “One last thing before I run off.”


End file.
